s nothing to be done; we
packed up, I with a heavy heart, Jack with his customary stoicism.

With the grief which comes only at that time in one's life, and which
sees no end and no limit, I parted from my friends at Camp MacDowell.
Two years together, in the most intimate companionship, cut off from
the outside world, and away from all early ties, had united us with
indissoluble bonds,--and now we were to part,--forever as I thought.

We all wept; I embraced them all, and Jack lifted me into the
ambulance; Mrs. Kendall gave a last kiss to our little boy; Donahue, our
soldier-driver, loosened up his brakes, cracked his long whip, and away
we went, down over the flat, through the dark MacDowell canon, with the
chollas nodding to us as we passed, across the Salt River, and on across
an open desert to Florence, forty miles or so to the southeast of us.

At Florence we sent our military transportation back and staid over a
day at a tavern to rest. We met there a very agreeable and cultivated
gentleman, Mr. Charles Poston, who was en route to his home, somewhere
in the mountains nearby. We took the Tucson stage at sundown, and
travelled all night. I heard afterwards more about Mr. Poston: he had
attained some reputation in the literary world by writing about the
Sun-worshippers of Asia. He had been a great traveller in his early
life, but now had built himself some sort of a house in one of the
desolate mountains which rose out of these vast plains of Arizona,
hoisted his sun-flag on the top, there to pass the rest of his days.
People out there said he was a sun-worshipper. I do not know. "But when
I am tired of life and people," I thought, "this will not be the place I
shall choose."

Arriving at Tucson, after a hot and tiresome night in the stage, we went
to an old hostelry. Tucson looked attractive. Ancient civilization is
always interesting to me.

Leaving me at the tavern, my husband drove out to Fort Lowell, to see
about quarters and things in general. In a few hours he returned with
the overwhelming news that he found a dispatch awaiting him at that
post, ordering him to return immediately to his company at Camp
MacDowell, as the Eighth Infantry was ordered to the Department of
California.

Ordered "out" at last! I felt like jumping up onto the table, climbing
onto the roof, dancing and singing and shouting for joy! Tired as we
were (and I thought I had reached the limit), we were not too tired to
take the firs